


...And the Things That go Bump in the Night

by GrumpyJenn



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-28 21:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5107064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Struckk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Struckk/gifts), [AerynB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AerynB/gifts), [AnagramRMX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnagramRMX/gifts), [justlook3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlook3/gifts).



Jacob Stone was a stubborn man.

He knew this about himself. Hell, he had even said it more than once.

But the look on Cassandra’s face when he told her not to bother trying to regain his trust; it had gone beyond hurt, past disappointment.

All the way to punch-Jake-in-the-gut guilt.

And she didn’t even realize she was doing it. That was the real killer; she had no idea that she was practically radiating injured innocence.

Well, damn it; she _wasn’t_ innocent, was she? She’d deliberately let the Brotherhood into the Library, allowed them to set magic loose, almost gotten Flynn _killed._

Almost.

But at the last minute, Jake’s traitorous brain pointed out fairly – damn it – at the last minute she’d given up her one chance to save her own life, the chance she’d betrayed them for in the first place, because she was just too damn _nice_ to actually let someone die because of her.

Unless under the effects of the Apple, but that was a different story, and not her fault anyway.

So when she’d figured out the Faraday Cage at that science fair, taken on a damn haunt to save them all for God’s sake, well…

Jake began to doubt his own lack of trust.

Did he really not trust her? Because she was proving herself trustworthy every day, sometimes to the point of actually hurting herself. Jacob didn’t know whether it was guilt on her part, or sheer determination, but one of these days she’d get herself in real trouble, unable to get out, if she kept going like she was.

 

<<<\--->>>

 

“It’s like what happened at Christmas,” Cassandra was explaining earnestly to Ezekiel. “My parents just never let me do that stuff.” Jake saw her get that faraway look that meant she was remembering something – probably sad by normal standards if not actually unpleasant – as she continued. “Found out about Santa – wrongly as it turned out – at three, the Tooth Fairy before I even had all my baby teeth, and…” She paused as their thief interrupted.

“An’ the Easter Bunny before you could talk, prob’ly.” He cocked his head at her. “But what about Halloween? I mean, the Great Pumpkin’s not exactly movin’ in the same circles, y’know?”

“All of it,” Cass said, and then crossed her eyes and put on a fake voice that sounded like a child imitating an adult… which Jake supposed she was. “It’s unnecessary to clutter your fine mind with superstitious nonsense when you could be learning a new technobabble of the neutron flow.” She switched back to her normal voice and laughed, but it sounded a little bitter to Jake. “I got that last part from television well after I was an adult.”

 _It’s time to step up_ , Jake thought, _make a peace offering._

“I could take you out for Halloween if you want.”


	2. Chapter 2

Cassandra Cillian was not the sort of woman who worried overmuch about what to wear. When you save the world for a living – some weeks twice – there’s no real reason to.

Until you have a date – of sorts – on a holiday all about dressing up. She should’ve asked Jacob what he would wear; then they could coordinate costumes.

Finally, she sighed and chose a random sort-of medieval dress in a pale green, complete with flowers to wind through her hair.

“Going as your namesake?” It was Jenkins, giving what passed for a smile at her confusion. “Cassandra the Fainting Seer,” he said with remarkable kindness, for him. “It’s what you do.”

“I could ask Jacob, but I think the mythological Cassandra wore Greek togas or something.”

“Yes, but her archetype is a common figure in literature. She appears in Shakespeare, for instance, which would certainly suit that gown you have,” Jenkins said, nodding at the armful of fabric she held.

“I…” Cassandra began, then stopped. She could research Fainting Seer archetypes later. Right now it was time to get dressed.

 

<<<\--->>>

 

“Wow.”

“That’s it? Just ‘wow’?”

Jacob waved a hand at her, encompassing the dress, the hair, all of it. “Yeah, pretty much just wow. You look great. So…” He trailed off.

“What?”

“Never mind. Ain’t important.” _Well_ , Cassandra thought. _It must be important, or you wouldn’t be getting all Okie._ But she let it be for now.

“Um… you too. You look great, I mean.” He really did. All that black linen and leather and… wait. “Is that a human _skull_?”

“Sure is.” He beamed at her. “Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, at your service. This is my friend Yorick.” He looked her up and down, the expression on his face now Art Historian instead of just _wow_. “And that gown is very Ophelia. How’d you know?”

Ophelia? This was not her area of expertise. STEM she got, but the arts weren’t really something she knew very well. “I didn’t. I… I just…” She paused, flustered, then changed the subject. “What are we doing for Halloween?”

“Well, I’d say we had enough of haunted houses, even though that house wasn’t exactly…” Jacob shook his head and smiled at her. “And we’re kind of old for trick-or-treating without a kid to drag around with us. So it’s party time. There’s a classic monster movie festival in Pennsylvania.” He crooked his elbow and, when Cassandra didn’t take it immediately, took her hand. “Jenkins? The Door, please.”

Grumbling, Jenkins opened the door for them.

And Cassandra could have sworn she heard him mutter something like, “Don’t let her down…”

Because surely it hadn’t been, “Don’t let her _drown_ …”


	3. Chapter 3

It started out fine; they went through the door and into an alley just around the corner from the theater where the movies were playing. They were complimented on their costumes – Hamlet and Ophelia – and Jake still wondered how she had known.

Her math spells, even the magic ones, didn’t usually lead themselves to things like picking out her clothes.

But she looked damn good in them, all ethereal and floaty and Ophelia-like, and Jacob found himself sliding into feeling like this was an actual _date_.

With Cassandra.

Which was simultaneously thrilling and unnerving, because he _didn’t_ really trust her… or did he?

There was really no reason not to, not anymore. He couldn’t take back the secrets, after all, and she had been trying her damndest to earn back his trust. And to earn the right to be a full part of the team, not to be coddled by Baird because she wasn’t physically strong.

God knew she’d done that right at the House of Refuge.

Jacob yanked his attention to the pimply kid asking him if he wanted butter on his popcorn, and shoved a hand in his pocket for his wallet. “My treat,” he said to Cassandra when she looked like she might protest, and her smile just lit up her face, as though he had given her a gift.

If that’s all it took to make her smile, Jacob wondered why he hadn’t done it before.

Came back to the trust, didn’t it? “My Lady,” he said, crooking his elbow, and this time she took it, laughing. She grabbed their popcorn in her other hand, leaving him to juggle Yorick and the drink tray.

They settled into their seats, in an old-fashioned theatre of the sort with lots of dark velvet and ornate carved wood, heavily gilded. Jacob sort of expected a phantom at an organ somewhere, and spent his time looking around at the architecture and the carvings. Just as he leaned in to tell Cassandra about one of them, she leaned too, and they bumped heads.

“Ow. Sorry. Sorry. Does it hurt?” Jacob found himself stripping off one leather glove and stroking Cassandra’s hair back from her left temple, his gaze caught in her bottomless blue.

Beating himself up for being an unforgiving ass all these months. If Flynn could forgive her, trust her, why couldn’t he?

“It’s okay.” She smiled at him but he barely saw it. “Jacob. _Jake_. It’s okay. I’m not hurt, not really.”

She reached up and stopped the fingers in her hair, snapping Jake out of it. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I… didn’t mean to hurt you, I… even before, I… _damn_ it.”

“I’m not hurt,” she repeated, and took his hand.

“You sure? ‘Cause I…  Cassandra, I should’ve trusted you. I _do_ , I…” But she interrupted.

“Then we’re good.”

Jacob took a long look at her, and decided she meant it.

 

<<<\--->>>

 

It was a fun movie, lots of bad special effects and melodrama, and at one point their bare hands bumped in the popcorn bowl and she gave his fingers a little squeeze. After the film, they went out for some air, leaving the empty popcorn bucket in a trash bin along the way.

“Jacob?”

“Hmm?” They were sitting on a park bench, close but not really touching, and Cassandra took his hand. He switched Yorick over to the other one to hold hers.

“When did you decide I… I could be trusted again?” Jake felt himself go cold all over. “I mean… back with the fairy tales you said…”

“ _Trust_ you?” Jake heard the words come out of his mouth, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Trust you? Like I would trust any woman, least of all _you_. Turn on us as soon as you can, keep throwing yourself into danger in the hope that someone will rescue the little princess. Women! You make me sick, all of you. I wouldn’t trust you if you were all put away somewhere! I—“

But she was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Cassandra knew all too well that Jacob Stone blew hot and cold. She didn’t blame him for moodiness.

But _cruelty_ …

She couldn’t see where she was going for the tears and the math, she didn’t _care_ , he had told her he trusted her, and then…

_…and then_

_how_ could _he, how…?_

_a memory, the smell of_

_something rotten  and_

_he… she lost the thread…_    

“Cassandra!” A strong arm around her waist, it was him, and she struggled, not this time, he didn’t care, he didn’t _trust_ , he… “Cassandra, please, _damn_ it, Cass, I didn’t…” But she wrenched herself free and ran.

And ran and ran and when he caught her again she just went limp, sinking to the damp ground.

What was the use?

He was murmuring apologies over and over into her ear – _I’m sorry, so sorry, Cassie, I didn’t mean it, it wasn’t me, please Cassandra, I didn’t_ – and she finally said, dully, “Let me go,” and when he did, she sat up.

Cassandra sat half on the bank of a stream, half in it, curled up in a little ball with her chin on her knees, and stared blindly out over the water. When Jacob tried to put an arm around her shoulders she tensed, and he let the arm drop. “Cassandra, I…”

“Don’t.”

“I gotta.” His voice was about as country as she’d ever heard it, and that meant he was really upset. So she said nothing. “It wasn’t _me_ , Cassandra.”

“Right.” The bark of completely unamused laughter sounded bitter, even to her. She’d thought he _cared_ , that he was family.

Like her own family had ceased to be long ago.

But he was still talking. “Lookit me.”

She shook her head, still staring blankly out across the stream. It didn’t matter that he sounded terribly unhappy and upset, as Okie as if he’d just stepped off a farm. He’d said such cruel things, and after he’d gotten her hopes up that maybe… that maybe he could trust her, and…

“ _Cassandra_.” This time he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her toward him, and when she flinched away, he looked like he might cry. “Do you really think that I would… that I _could_ … _Christ_ , Cass, you know I wouldn’t hurt you, not on purpose! _It wasn’t me_!”

“Then who was it?!” She shouted it at him. “Because it _looked_ like you, and it _sounded_ like…” She paused.

“Didn’t sound like me?”

She shook her head, and this time she met his eyes. “Didn’t smell right either. I just realized, I…” She dropped her eyes again. “I’m sorry.”

This time she didn’t resist when Jacob put an arm around her, even smiled a little as he eased her back from the stream bank. “Not your fault any more’n it was mine, darlin’.” She could practically hear the wry little grin.

“It was Yorick, wasn’t it?”

“How’d you know?”

“Usually if you’re upset your voice goes all country, and it didn’t while you were ranting about not t-trusting me,” she said, and felt the arm tighten around her shoulders at the stutter. “And the smell when a math spell has to do with you is corn chips and chili, but this time it was… like the meat in the chili had gone off, like…”

“Like something rotten.”

Cassandra nodded. “Yorick was the only new variable. Though I don’t know why he didn’t affect you until after the movie.”

“Gloves. Insulated me from the effect.” He sighed. “I guess the perfect accessory to the costume right by the Back Door was too coincidental. Shoulda known.”

 

<<<\--->>>

 

“I told her the Cassandra archetype was in Shakespeare,” Jenkins muttered acerbically, but he visibly softened as he looked at their very own Cassandra. She was curled up in a big chair, surreptitiously wiping tears off her face as she read Shakespeare’s _Hamlet_.

“She started crying at, ‘get thee to a nunnery,’ so that must be what Stone was paraphrasing under the effects of that damn thing,” Eve Baird said softly, pointing at the skull. Once Jake and Cassie had realized what caused the whole mess, they’d retrieved Yorick, insulating it carefully in Jacob’s cloak. Then they’d headed back to the Annex, to tell their tale – Eve was sure it was heavily edited – and to stow the skull safely. “I’m just glad they didn’t get to Ophelia’s suicide by drowning.”

Eve shuddered lightly, but then smiled as she watched Stone pull a chair over to Cassandra’s. He held a very large, very old, illustrated copy of Hamlet, and he opened it and settled in companionably next to the redhead, explaining the artwork to her in a low murmur.

And Eve knew they’d be okay.


End file.
